


Never Just Curious

by Batsutousai



Series: FMA Ship Week Fics [17]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Edward Elric Swears, FMA Rarepair Week, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7987591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed says he's looking for a shag with the only gay guy he trusts, because he's curious, and Darius takes offence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Just Curious

**Author's Note:**

> For [FMA Rarepair Week on tumblr](http://fmararepairweek.tumblr.com/post/145119194635/themes). Today's prompts included _Senses_ and _"Did you cut your hair? It's nice."_  
>  The bonus prompt for today was smol & tol, which *makes pointed motions at the ship* I 100% get that one, kudos to me. XD
> 
> I was originally thinking to write smut for this piece, but then I decided I'd rather have one fic for each day on FFN, and I also wasn't really feeling the porn, so.
> 
>  
> 
> You can also read this at [Fanfiction.Net](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12140224/1/), [tumblr](http://batshieroglyphics.tumblr.com/post/150124339584), or [LiveJournal](http://batsutousai.livejournal.com/368056.html).

"Daaaaaarius~!" the kid sang out, right before he sort of flopped against Darius' shoulder. 

Darius reached out on automatic to wrap an arm around his waist and support him, because Ed only got touchy when he was completely sloshed. 

"Perhaps," Heinkel said from the other side of the booth, while Greed's loud laughter filled the air from somewhere inside the crowd he'd collected on the other side of the room, "you've had enough to drink." 

Ed stretched out his arms – one behind Darius' head, one in front – and dropped his head to Darius' shoulder. "Maaaaaaabye," he agreed, before his hands connected on the other side of Darius' head and he sort of started climbing into his lap. "Darius'll take me ta bed, won'tcha, Darius?" 

When Darius looked over at him, Ed put on a wide, lopsided smile and blinked a few times. "What are you doing?" Darius asked, mostly because he knew better than to guess at the intentions of drunks. (Being gay in the army, you learnt that lesson quick, or you ended up pissing people off when they woke up in the morning with a hangover in your bed. Not that he thought Ed had _quite_ that aim–)

" 'M sadu– seduc–" Ed went cross-eyed, a bit, while Darius' stomach sank. "Tryin' ta get ya in bed," he settled on, before beaming, like he was _proud_ of himself. 

"You're fifteen and drunk. No," Darius returned flatly, because he'd learnt that directness was his best weapon, especially with Ed, who hated it when people tried beating around the bush. 

Ed let out a pitiful noise in his ear, then turned his head away and whined, "Heeeeinkeeeeel!" 

"I'm not sleeping with you either, kid," Heinkel deadpanned, his expression held perfectly flat. 

Ed waved a hand at him. "I know _that_ ," he slurred. "Yer _straight_. Straight than line. Triangle edge. 'Ve I told juu 'bout tha'rray for–"

" _Bedtime_ ," Darius decided, because it was hard enough to follow Ed's alchemy ramblings when he was sober; he shuddered to think how they'd be when he was sloshed out of his head. 

"Darius doesn't 'ate me!" Ed called, and Darius got a sloppy kiss on the cheek. 

"Your _own_ bed. Which I'm not getting in," Darius clarified, even as he shifted out of the booth and, between his own grip on Ed's waist and Ed's grip around his neck, easily lifted him off the floor. 

Ed just sort of slumped in his hold and made a really pathetic whining noise. 

Darius sighed. He didn't have the heart to leave Ed alone in this state, even drunk, and it wasn't like he was going to remember this in the morning, so he said, "Talk to me again when you're sixteen and sober." 

Which ended up being the end of it, apparently, because Ed didn't come on to him again when he was drunk. 

-0-

Honestly, Ed was the last person Darius had expected to find on the other side of his hotel room door. So far as he knew, the kid's brother was still in hospital, and, after everything, he didn't think Ed would leave his side for _anything_.

Ed looked up at him, face set with determination, but his eyes hinting at a good share of uncertainty. "Can I come in?" he asked, weirdly polite. 

Darius stepped back and waved him in. "Hey. Didn't expect to see you." 

Ed strode inside and cast a quick look around. Once Darius had shut the door, though, he spun to face him, still both determined and uncertain. "I turned sixteen today," he said. 

Darius blinked, surprised. "Huh. Happy birthday." 

Ed waved a hand at that, then pinned him with a sharp look. (Which probably would have worked better if he didn't look like a part of him wanted to flee.) "You told me to come back when I was sixteen and sober," he said. 

Darius blinked again, thrown, and then, "You _remember_ that?" 

Ed's mouth thinned out into a straight line for a moment, before he admitted, "I don't forget things that happen when I'm drunk. Lucky me." 

Darius sighed and rubbed at his face. "Look, Ed, I said that so you'd actually go to bed, okay? Not for you to throw it back in my face six months later." 

"I'm not–!" Ed started, before spinning away. " _Fuck_." He reached up with his hands – both flesh, and wasn't that _odd_ to see – and rubbed at his face a bit, before crossing them over his chest and turning back to Darius. "Look, okay. You're the only gay guy I really know, and I'm just... I'm _curious_. What's it's like." 

Something very like hurt burnt through Darius' chest, and he did his damnedest to ignore it as he flatly replied, "No. I won't play guinea pig to one of your little experiments. Find someone more gullible." 

"Dari–"

"Get out," Darius ordered, turning away, because actually _looking_ at Ed made his chest hurt worse. "Get your jollies off with someone who gives a damn." 

Ed was absolutely silent for a moment, before his boots thumped against the thin carpet of Darius' room, and the door opened and closed with far less force than he would have expected from the kid. 

Darius brought a surprisingly shaky hand up to rub at his mouth. It was hardly the first time he'd been asked for a shag because some guy was curious, but it had never hurt quite so much before. Probably because he'd never really known any of those other men. 

Well. At least that should be the end of matters. 

-0-

Darius moved on. He joined the circus, with Heinkel and Yoki, and they performed their act to cheers from the crowd. 

Sometimes, he wondered after Ed, where he was, what he was doing, if he'd ever shacked up with that pretty blonde girlfriend of his. The last thought always hurt more than he thought it should, but he ignored that, made excuses to himself about indigestion, and kept on. 

And then, in the crowd at one show, he caught sight of gold hair. That impossible shade that he'd only ever seen on three people, and it was only years of performing the same actions that let him finish his act. 

Ed was waiting for him outside the main tent, after the show. He looked older. Maybe a little bit more tired, than Darius usually envisioned him as, but... 

He looked good. Especially when he spotted Darius and his face split with a wide, brilliant smile. 

Darius' heart made a slow, hopeful thump, and he debated the pros and cons of having the circus doctor check on him. (The man was a bit of a sadist.) 

"Darius!" Ed called, and his voice was deeper than Darius remembered. 

"Hey, Ed," Darius offered. "Thought it was you I saw in the audience." 

Ed reached up and ran a hand through his hair, and Darius was surprised to realise that he didn't have it pulled back, it was just really, _really_ short. 

"You cut your hair?!" he blurted out, couldn't tell if he was more surprised of horrified; he'd _liked_ Ed's hair long. 

Ed grimaced. "It looks like shit, doesn't it?" he asked a bit tiredly. "Fucker cut my ponytail off and this was what the barber left me with when he was done 'evening it out'." 

"It– It's not...terrible," Darius hurried to assure him, because it actually sort of _wasn't_ , especially since his long bangs were still framing his face, though even they were a bit shorter than they used to be. "You don't look bad." 

Ed blinked at that, his hand dropping from his hair. "Oh," he said, looking like he didn't really know how to respond to that. 

Darius knew the feeling. "Heinkel's probably back by his trailer, by the way, if you came for a reunion?" 

"I–" Ed stopped, took a deep breath, then met his eyes, expression set with determination. 

For a second, Darius was back eight years ago, on Ed's birthday, staring down at him, and the old hurt thrummed through him again. 

"I came to see you, okay? Just you." 

" _Why_?" Darius demanded, and the word came out far harsher than he'd intended. 

Ed winced, and then he sighed and said, "I deserve that." He brushed his bangs back, out of his face, and Darius was vaguely surprised to realise that his left ring finger was bare. "Last time, what I said? I'm sorry. I was a fucking moron." 

"Yeah," Darius agreed, crossing his arms over his chest, because he didn't really know what else to do with them. "Good on you for finally figuring that out." 

Ed's mouth tightened and he crossed his own arms over his chest. "I didn't come here to fight, okay?" he said, his voice tight. 

"No?" Darius returned, couldn't stop his tone from being confrontational. "Then why _did_ you come?" 

"Because–" Ed stopped, letting out a frustrated sound. "Fuck. _Look_ , okay? I didn't want to fucking sleep with you because I wanted to know what it was like, I wanted to sleep with you because you're _you_."

Darius' breath caught, weirdly. 

Ed looked away, the angle making his cheeks appear pinker than usual. "I had a fucking crush on you, okay? 'Cept I didn't fucking know what it was – why the fuck _would_ I? – just thought it was scientific curiosity. And I– What I said, that afternoon, the way I approached it, that was...shit. Shouldn'ta done that. And I'm _sorry_. You have every fucking right to be furious with me. I just...needed to get it off my chest." 

Ed'd had a _crush_ on him? 

Darius shook his head, opened his mouth to ask... Actually, he didn't know what he wanted to ask, but he still somehow got out, "And now?" Which was...kind of a crappy question, really, when he thought of it. He blamed Ed throwing him off kilter with his usual unforgiving bluntness. (At least _some_ things never changed.) 

"Now?" Ed repeated, shifting a bit. He swallowed, then glanced up at Darius, and he realised it wasn't the _light_ making Ed's cheeks look pink. "That–" He stopped and cleared his throat. "That hasn't...changed. You're still– _I_ still have a cru–" And then he unfolded his arms and covered his face. "Fuck's sake, why does that shit have to sound so fucking juvenile?" 

And that–

Darius surprised himself with a laugh. And, by the way Ed peeked out from behind his fingers, he hadn't expected that response either. "I have coffee, back in my trailer, if you want some?" Darius offered without really thinking about it. 

Ed's shoulders sort of sagged a bit and he dropped his hands from his face to reveal a smile that was only strange because it looked hesitant. "Yeah." 

Darius led the way back to his living space, waving at other members of the circus in greeting as he did. It was only as he was pulling out the instant coffee mix he'd taken to stocking that–

"I thought you hated that stuff?" Ed said. 

–he'd somehow got in the habit of drinking the brand that Ed liked. Decided he'd liked the scent of it, really, even if the taste was still only tolerable. 

Darius cleared his throat and quickly scooped out a serving for each of them. "It's easier to find and store while we're travelling," he said by way of excuse, even though it really...wasn't. He just always grabbed it. Automatic. 

He brought the cups over to his tiny table once he'd poured the water and put a bit of milk in one of the mugs, and found Ed running the fingers of his left hand over the knuckles of his right. It was only really notable because Darius had seen him do it a hundred times with the automail, picking out little bits of dirt from the joints, when he was nervous or bored. 

He set the mug without milk down in front of Ed, then reached past him and tapped the lid of the little sugar pot huddled on the table next to the wall. "Try to be a _bit_ sparing, for once," he said. 

Ed flashed him a smile that was so sharp and familiar, it _ached_. "You can't be _sparing_ with sugar, Darius," he said as he reached for the pot. "It's just not possible." 

"For _you_ , maybe," Darius shot back, the familiarity in the old argument almost settling, in its way. "You _do_ know they don't make automail teeth." 

Ed snorted, his whole face lighting up and making him look five years younger, erasing all the signs of tiredness and exhaustion and the little lines speaking to a life lived the hard way. He was... _radiant_. Everything Darius hadn't known he'd missed. 

And Darius realised, with a bit of a start, that Ed might not have been the only one who'd developed a bit of a crush. 

How did that saying go? 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder'? 

He slid carefully into the empty chair as Ed decimated his sugar stock, said, "I wouldn't want that much metal in my mouth, anyway. Winry'd love it, though; she never stops enjoying causing me pain." 

"She's still your mechanic, then?" Darius heard himself asking, tried not to wince at the realisation that he was taking part in _small talk_ with Ed, because he didn't know what to do with the information about Ed's crush. Or with how much he'd apparently missed him. 

"Of course," Ed said like it was obvious. (Maybe it was; Darius didn't really know much about automail, beyond what he'd discovered from watching Ed rub at the skin around his ports when the weather turned, and other little nuances that suggested that living with it was no walk in the park.) "Her husband's a bit of a prick, though, so I don't go by as often as she says I should." 

"A prick?" Darius repeated, and he didn't think Ed would let his childhood friend stay in an abusive relationship, but... 

"To me," Ed clarified, his gaze knowing. "Russell thinks it's great fun to poke fun at me, especially when I can't run away." He shrugged, looked back down at his coffee, like he thought that would disguise how much it bugged him as he added, "It's the same shit Winry always pulls, mostly, so I'm used to it." Then he flashed a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes and said, "Al's gone and married May, that little Xingan princess, by the way. He said he'd try to get invitations to you and Heinkel, but we never knew if you'd got them." 

"We did," Darius said, letting Ed have his subject change. "They didn't get here until it was too late for us to make it, though. Heinkel said something about sending back our apologies, but you know how the post can be." 

"Ain't that the truth," Ed muttered, rolling his eyes. "Al's always bitching about how I never write him while I'm travelling, but most of the postcards and shit I've tried to send to people just never make it. Never sure if it's getting held up at the borders, or just falling off the wagon or what." 

"You're still travelling?" Darius asked, a bit surprised. "I'd've thought you'd had enough of that for one lifetime." 

Ed snorted, his eyes lighting up again. "Are you _kidding_? I sat around in Resembool for two years and ended up bored out of my skull. Al 'n I decided we wanted to see the _rest_ of the world, so he went to Xing – did you know there are more countries further east? They do things like eat _dogs_ out there! – and I went west debated alchemy with a couple weirdos in Aerugo, pissed off a few people I probably shouln't've in Creta, got into a couple brawls in Drachma..." 

Darius laughed, because that was _so much_ like the Ed he remembered. Running pell-mell into whatever horrible idea he had next, without any thought to the consequences, and still somehow coming out the other end alive. "I'm glad you haven't changed," he said. 

"Oiy! I've changed plenty!" Ed shouted, straightening. "Not that you'd notice, you fucking giant, but I've got _taller_."

Darius considered that for a moment, then admitted, "The hair was a little distracting." 

Ed grimaced and he reached up to tug on the short strands. "Don't fucking remind me." 

Darius reached across the table without really thinking about it, catching Ed's bangs between his fingers, as he said, "It really doesn't look that bad." 

Ed gave him a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look, holding so still, Darius wasn't certain he was breathing. 

It looked so _wrong_ on him. Ed had always been a mini tornado, bowling right through anything and everything in his way, completely uncaring about the devastation left in his wake. The uncertainty, the maybe-fear, the _stillness_...it was all unnatural. Like the world had tilted off whatever imaginary axis the scientist sorts seemed convinced existed. 

There were still the familiar noises of the circus outside his grungy window, though, so it wasn't the _world_ that had screwed up, just them. 

Darius swallowed, staring back at the wide gold eyes, and he knew he needed to either pull away, or commit. 

_Could_ he commit? 

No, better question: How could he _not_ commit? 

He stretched forward a bit further, the calluses of his hands catching against Ed's hair, until he could cup Ed's cheek, the warmth of his skin bleeding through the contact. And Ed let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. 

There was something just a little bit sad in his expression, and Darius found the courage, in that sorrow, to say, "You weren't the first guy to ask for sex because he was 'curious'." 

Ed flinched, started to draw away a bit. 

Darius chased after him, running the rough edges of his thumb against Ed's cheek, just under in eye, and he fell still again, sort of staring down at his thumb. "I was an openly gay man in the military, and we were posted on the border, away from all but a handful of women, all of whom were armed; it happens," he commented drily. 

Ed licked his lips and quietly replied, "Just because a line of other people go jumping off a clock tower, doesn't make it any less horrible." 

That...wasn't wrong. But _still_.

"Did you just equate gay sex with suicide?" Darius had to ask. 

Ed blinked, his expression taking on a definite 'oh shit' cast. "I...might have," he admitted. 

"I should be insulted." 

"Except you're not, because you know me way too fucking well," Ed shot back, a glimmer of something dangerous in his eyes. Not dangerous like 'I'll cut your balls off if you keep harping on me', but more 'I'm about to rip up your life by the roots and throw it around'. It sent a thrill down Darius' spine, and he knew he'd already passed the point of no return, because just like he knew Ed, Ed knew _him_ , and Darius hadn't pulled away when he'd had the chance. 

He'd showed his hand, and he found he didn't really care. 

"Terrible analogies aside," Darius said as flatly as he could manage, "it happened a lot, and I didn't say no nearly as often as I probably should have, because sex was just sex. Until _you_. When you asked – on your birthday, not when you were so sloshed you couldn't walk straight –" Ed made a face, but didn't complain about that description "–that...hurt." 

"Because I was being a dense moron?" Ed suggested with a wry little twist to his lips. 

"To be fair, you weren't the only one being dense," Darius admitted, and Ed raised his eyebrows at that. "No. Because I was just a convenient gay, to you." 

Ed closed his eyes and turned his head a bit, the side of his nose pressing against the bottom of Darius' palm. "You're not convenient any more. You're actually kind of the _opposite_ of convenient." 

"How long did it take you to find us?" Darius had to ask. 

Ed opened his eyes just enough to glare at him. "Two months." 

Darius smiled, wide and a little mean. "Not as inconvenient as it could have been. I'll have to have a word with the ringmaster about ramping it up a bit more." 

Ed's glare promised murder, but also something that might have been hurt, and Darius twisted his hand so he could trace it over Ed's lower lip. 

Ed's eyes fell closed for a moment, and the breath he let out against Darius' thumb shuddered. 

And then Ed's eyes opened again, lit with danger, and Darius was powerless to look away from them as Ed's mouth opened, his tongue snaking out and licking around his thumb, just enough to get it damp so, when he whispered, "Do you really want to play least convenient with me?" he could feel the words as they cooled the saliva. 

"You're assuming," Darius managed, somehow, though his voice was tellingly rough, "that I would ever go searching for you." 

Ed's smirk was as terrifying as the sight of a cyclone on the horizon, and twice as thrilling. "Wanna bet on that?" 

"Never. You're a _cheat_."

Ed's eyes lit with a dangerous sort of promise, and then he opened his mouth even wider, stretching his front teeth forward and catching on the nail of Darius' thumb, his bottom teeth pressing sharply against the pad of his thumb. 

Heat shot through Darius, and he had to swallow twice before he could manage to ask, "Would you like to see my bedroom?" Which was probably the lamest line in the history of Amestris, but at least he knew Ed wasn't the sort to care. 

Indeed, Ed let off with his teeth and said, "Fuck, _yes_."

Darius stood and, instead of immediately leading his way to the cramped little space he called his bedroom, he leant over the table and pressed his mouth to Ed's. 

Ed almost immediately opened to him, letting out a broken little moan that did terrible things to Darius' vague certainty that sex in the kitchen was a _bad idea_. The taste of him – his overly sugared coffee and the hint of butter left over from the circus popcorn – had Darius moaning, and he barely had the sense _not_ to just lift Ed and carry him to the bed – Ed would _probably_ kill him – instead pulling away so he could focus on manoeuvring the table and the narrow hallway and Ed's hands, picking at the buttons of both of their shirts. 

And then his calves hit the edge of the bed, and he could finally focus on Ed, and _only_ Ed, for a while.

.


End file.
